


For You

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Series: Why Steve Rogers Owes Kinky TikTok for a Significant Portion of His Happiness [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, BAMF Tony Stark, BAMFs, BDSM, Dom/sub, Flirting, Identity Porn, M/M, Social Media, TikTok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27291670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: Tony Stark is one of the earlier adopters of KinkTok, just as he was for Kinstagram, Fetlife, Grindr, and Kinkspace back in the day. It’s practically part of his job, as one of the most high-profile submissives in the country.Steve pauses as he watches several loops through the same brief clip of Tony just slowly licking his lips and then letting his mouth fall open as he head tips back ever so slightly. #heydaddy #herewaiting the captions read, with a devil emoji.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Why Steve Rogers Owes Kinky TikTok for a Significant Portion of His Happiness [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992694
Comments: 27
Kudos: 221





	For You

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a series of at least three stories. The universe in which it takes place is a little handwavy about both canon and social media history. In this world, Instagram came out a little earlier, and TikTok came out in 2010 (Vine never did). The kinky equivalents launched at the same time as the general platforms, at least after the first dynamic-specific platform, Kinkster, was launched as a version of Friendster with a lag of about a year. About a third of the population are dominant or submissive (general term: dynamic), and there is a minor biological component. Two people who are dominant and submissive can be described as “aligned,” whether they’re in a relationship or particularly compatible or not. As far as film canon, this first story starts in late 2011 and goes into early 2014. We’re ignoring AoU, because really, that’s never a bad choice. 
> 
> Also, to subscribers, quick updates! (I wish AO3 had a way to do this without posting an actual story...) I got mostly caught up on comments again, and you are all amazing. I know a lot of people are waiting on sequels, so I want to let you know that I am most actively working on more in the Purify (Stuckony humiliation kink) verse and a sequel to Twice the Sugar (Stuckony sugar daddy). I also have moving, but slower, a sequel to Urgent Care, several snippets in that Stuckony cuckolding verse, and some outtakes from the There's No Admin verse. I'm kind of flipping the table on my career right now, so I might be posting a lot more and might not be, I really have no idea! But I so appreciate everyone who tells me to take my time and not worry about it. Y'all are sweethearts.

Tony Stark is one of the earlier adopters of KinkTok, just as he was for Kinstagram, Fetlife, Grindr, and Kinkspace back in the day. It’s practically part of his job, as one of the most high-profile submissives in the country. His brand is his greedy mouth as much as it is his inventions, and he’s aware of it. Not ashamed. As a submissive man, he’d never have gotten far in his industries without balls of steel and an absolute refusal to ever be embarrassed by his nature. Instead, he owns his sexuality, putting his private life online before anyone else can try to blackmail him or control the narrative. 

And so it is that when Captain America defrosts, SHIELD offers him not just a basic profile on the man, but some rather  _ enlightening  _ supplemental links. Steve’s first reaction is sheer horror. 

_ Well _ . 

If he’s perfectly honest, and he pretty much always is, his  _ first _ reaction is a sudden rush of blood into his groin. The top video in Tony’s KinkTok feed is an erotic dance to a backing track with a dirty, thumping beat. Tony’s dressed in nothing like the tailored suits from all the photos in his file. Instead, he wears a pair of the shortest, most shiny coal grey shorts Steve has ever seen with a little leather vest that leaves his pierced nipples and the blue glow of the arc reactor plainly visible. His facial hair is sharply trimmed, reminding Steve of just a ghost of his father, and his brown eyes lure the viewer in when he cares to meet the camera’s gaze. Tony rolls his body as if the fluid movements come from deep within his core, ass and thighs and toned stomach undulating, arms held loosely in the air loosely keeping the beat. 

But Steve manages to keep his facial expression carefully closed off, only raising his eyes mildly to the SHIELD agents assigned to him as if he’s entirely unaffected by the lewd display. “Is this…  _ public _ ?” he asks with a frown of mild distaste.

“Yeah, it’s a social media platform, one of the newer ones. A… way for aligned people to meet each other and share… updates on their lives, via their phones.”

Steve keeps his dry expression as he scrolls past a couple more videos, one with Tony’s face close to the camera as he obviously takes a dick from behind, and another of Tony’s tongue on some nameless stranger’s boot. He slowly raises his eyes again, and one of the agents flinches. “Some  _ updates _ .”

“It’s only for adults,” the other agent clarifies. “It’s a version of another more generic app, but this one is specifically for Doms and subs. You have to be at least 18 to use it. A lot of research has shown that dynamic-specific mobile phone and web applications are important to a healthy social life for modern dominants and submissives,” she explains as if reading from a brochure. 

Steve pauses as he watches several loops through the same brief clip of Tony just slowly licking his lips and then letting his mouth fall open as he head tips back ever so slightly. #heydaddy #herewaiting the captions read, with a devil emoji. Steve’s technology briefings had included an explanation of emoji, but definitely didn’t go into the creativity with which they might be used. He swipes right and gets to a feed of various other examples of this brave new world, other Doms and subs showing off for the camera alone or in groups with clever captions. Steve has to hold back a grin at the use of peach and eggplant.

“In my time, social interactions were… significantly different.” Steve looks up again, and both agents are a little red in the face. “Sure, you might ask a submissive for their favors, but courting was much more restrained, and it was considered unbecoming to show others your sexual play. Certainly for an uncollared submissive to dance like this. If you really wanted to show off a boy or girl you’d go to a private club, or get them a shiny collar.  _ Anyone _ can see this, and some of it is… filthy.”

“Yes, Sir. Well.” The agent goes a little more red.  _ Submissive _ , Steve pegs him, though these days uncollared submissives don’t wear any insignia to give it away. He responds pretty obviously to Steve’s easy slouch, the confident spread of his thighs.

“At ease, agent,” Steve murmurs fondly, pressing his tablet closed as he stands. “I think I’ve seen enough. I’ll review the file this evening. Thank you both for the intelligence.” He nods as he strides past them, command in his step. Though the sheer exhibitionism in the app bothers something in him—particularly the idea that his next sub might be out there displaying their body for strangers—that doesn’t mean that he closed the tab before folding the tablet case shut. 

He gets ready for bed and strips down to his boxers in his quarters before he returns to the tablet, pulling up the app and browsing at a more leisurely pace as he stretches out along the slim bunk. It’s not just what Steve might expect were he to extrapolate his own life experience to this updated medium—punishments for particularly naughty submissives, perhaps; casual kneeling in couple videos. 

That stuff is present, but 95% of the platform is not just about public punishment or collared subs being shown off on their knees. There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of uncollared submissives doing lewd dances and other…  _ performances. _ There are couples, too, showing off their play in full detail. Steve gathers from comments and video captions that the private clubs of his day also still exist, as does a site called Fetlife for sharing special events and finding a date. 

Some KinkTok users record educational content about dominance and submission, but that’s much more rare. Most people are “trolling for hookups,” as the lingo puts it, satisfying an exhibition kink, or some combination of the two. Some focus on kinky jokes, games, and what Steve learns is called a “meme.” Everyone is clearly very horny. There are dance trends, and collaborations, and a whole language of flirtation outside of Steve’s immediate knowledge.

Well.

He’s always loved learning new things.

~*~

In life, Tony Stark is brash, argumentative, and only follows orders when he agrees with them. He drives Steve up a damn wall from the moment introductions are made until the point where they’re actually fighting alongside each other, keeping aliens out of New York. Steve’s heart jumps up into his throat when Tony flies the nuke through the portal, but not ten minutes later it’s joking over shawarma and Tony casually ribbing him again.

Slowly, as the Avengers all trickle into permanent residence at the Tower, they start to form a real team. Tony’s a snarky fuck, but he also gives Steve an amazing suite somehow decorated almost exactly according to his tastes, free of charge. Unlike his bunk in the Helicarrier, in the Tower his bed is huge, but with a pleasingly firm thin mattress (a futon mattress over a slatted frame, he learns when he investigates and then Googles). It’s more comfortable than what he’s used to, from the War, but not soft and cloud-like, as his surprisingly plush twin mattress was in his SHIELD quarters. Steve might never admit it, but for the first few nights after he was defrosted, Steve slept  _ underneath _ his bunk, on the floor. 

When the subject of Dom/sub relations in the 21st century comes up one afternoon, Steve says what he told the agents—that things were more private in his day, that he doesn’t really understand or approve of platforms like KinkTok. Tony teases him in an off-hand way about his prudery, and he jabs something back that is neither a lie nor out of line with his strangely pure public image.

His surprise at the nuances of 21st-century sexual and dynamic culture, though, doesn’t actually stop him from making a profile (now that he’s out from under Fury’s obviously prying eye) and rewatching some of those videos he’d first encountered from a prone position in his bunk, in the time frame immediately following his briefing on Tony that could be written off as “research” if Fury was in fact spying. 

Tony flirts with the viewer sometimes, using his eyes and his mouth to seduce the dominant on the other side of the camera. But other times he doesn’t even seem to notice that he’s being filmed, so caught up in submissive ecstasy that he doesn’t acknowledge the person filming him. And from the camera angles, many of these scenes are shot with at least three people present. He never uses his real smile with these people—Steve knows, now that he’s seen it—but his pleasure is clearly never false, either. He’s one of those subs who  _ revels _ in submission. 

In other words, he’s very much Steve’s type.

Comfortable behind the guise of his pseudonym, Steve likes several of the videos (but not all—that would come across as desperate, he’s gathered from the overheard conversations of other residents of the tower) and follows Tony. He doesn’t get a follow back right away, but doesn’t expect one. He can’t upload any videos of his own, after all, other than 3rd-person shots, and that would require actual planning and composition. (He is actually curious, as an artist, about this new-to-him medium of home video and how he might use it, but this doesn’t seem like the most opportune place to start.)

Nonetheless, he starts leaving cheeky comments to Tony’s posts, not every single one, but every third or fourth. And sometimes he scrolls back through Tony’s older posts, as well, though he doesn’t comment on those so as not to come across as an “Internet stalker.” There’s a lot of porn, a fair bit of Tony alone either dancing or fucking himself with a toy and doing submissive poses. But there are also humorous posts and meme responses, peppered among the raunchier stuff. Steve looks at the For You, Sir page from time to time and scrolls through a curated feed of submissives so that he understands the basic tone of KinkTok humor.

Thus, he nearly pulls a muscle laughing when he sees a post that starts with Tony sitting in a three-piece suit in an executive office, from an angle that suggests the camera is on his desk, pointed up. He’s glaring down at the camera, looking extremely unimpressed. A line of white-highlighted text reads “People who have a problem with submissives succeeding in business.” It holds on that shot for a moment as Tony seems to be talking sternly, but the audio just plays a strange voice that seems to be saying “wah wah waaah wah wah wah.” 

The shot then abruptly cuts to another office scene, but this one is in profile with a man sitting on the desk, lens focused on Tony’s face, the man’s dick down his throat and his hand shooting up after a second to flip off the camera. The white text reads, simply, “Me.” The backing track is a sultry-voicing woman singing “bitch better have my money!” with a throbbing drum beat and some electronic instrument following her exclamation. 

Tony sucks through the chorus, and then the man bucks his hips, Tony swallows, and the text disappears as the music changes to a slightly lower-quality audio recording of Tony’s own voice. “The truth is,” the audio declares as Tony sits up and then leans back in his luxe chair, the camera panning around and moving up so that the shot features Tony’s entire sprawled body and the stunning view of the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him. He dusts the shoulders of his jacket off deliberately, one at a time with the opposite hand, then slides a pair of shades out of his breast pocket and pushes them onto his face. The silence is broken just as he peers over the rims, practically assaulting the viewer with his gaze. “I am Iron Man.”

Steve is all at once amused, charmed, jealous, and a little bit hard. “I laughed, I cried, I felt feelings in my pants,” he comments, adopting the language of the younger generation on TikTok. (Even if he matched his physical age, he’d be older than them.)

“Damn right,” Tony replies. It’s his first direct engagement with Steve, after a few weeks of one-sided comments.

In another video, Tony introduces a complicated challenge involving Duets and a $100K donation to a chosen charity as a prize. In the one after that, he spends a full minute tonguing a cherry red lollipop while a woman sings “I’ll take you to the candy shop, boy one taste of what I got...” His lips are soon dripping with bright red, sticky saliva.

“Is it cliché to say you look delicious?” Steve comments. He gets a reply quicker this time.

“Yes. But I rarely say no to a compliment.”

“In that case, I love the way you move your ass when you dance, boy.”

“Why thank you, Daddy.” There’s a winking emoji. Steve decides to quit while he’s ahead.

In person Tony continues to be brash, sometimes abrasive or distant, often annoying. But in the cracks Steve starts to witness the quieter moments, the displays of generosity so dismissive Tony almost tricks the receiver into not noticing what he’s doing for them. Most of the time, Tony is loud and arrogant, displaying traits many would label “contrary to his nature.” He gets in people’s faces when he needs to, even Steve’s or Natasha’s, despite their dominant status. He can be nasty to those who cross him, and cold to his competitors. He’s snarky and ruthless. And in the intimate snippets he chooses to share with his followers, he’s the sweetest goddamn sub you can imagine, hungry and full of obedient lust. 

Steve tries hard not to think of Bucky.

It’s barely been a  _ year _ .

The sad fact of Steve’s life is that the only person still alive that he knew  _ back then _ is the one person he’s afraid to call. And it’s only because part of him doesn’t want to hear the story of Peggy Carter and her long-time sub, given the odd sort of relationship he and Bucky had hinted at, with her, before everything happened. She lived her life. Part of him feels like he’s missed out on his.

But also, in fact, Steve still has the rest of his life ahead of him. And there’s something about the Avengers that sure enough starts to heal him, one wound at a time. Sometimes it’s the opportunity to fight alongside a real team again, but more often it’s the company late at night, especially after a hard battle, from someone else who gets it. 

Often, more often than either of them would probably admit out loud, that company is Tony. The man can be serious when it’s called for, but also somehow knows intuitively when Steve would prefer snarky and sarcastic, or endless rambling about engineering that is oddly soothing to a keyed-up brain. And so here he is, not yet two years since Bucky fell, feeling a familiar heat rise in him again. Steve imagines Tony at his feet on those nights, of course he does. It’s hard not to.

Especially when he’s  _ seen _ Tony on his knees, jerked off to it even. He can’t deny that the further he gets from his loss, the more he starts to crave a submissive, and Tony’s right there. (So is Clint, technically, but he’s under Natasha’s protection since his captivity and Coulson’s death, and thus barely registers to Steve’s dominant sense.)

Also, Clint’s not on KinkTok, at least as far as Steve knows, and Tony is.

KinkTok gives Steve a way to get to know Tony from another angle, one where he’s still sometimes ready with a smirk and a quick bit of humor, and never quite smiles his most genuine unguarded smile. But it’s also one where he moves in sinuous rhythms, where he takes dick like a pro and talks dirty to his audience in the live performances Steve pretty much never misses. One where he’s sweet and eager and submissive and makes Steve want to sweep him off his feet and treat him like he deserves. It’s a hell of an aphrodisiac.

In one of Tony’s oldest videos, he kneels on a carpeted floor, pouting up at the camera, with a sign around his neck reading “SLUT.” It’s probably the least confident Steve’s seen him look in one of these posts, though he doesn’t look aggrieved or abused, either. His voice is raw and genuine, his eyes full of tears.

“I’ve been a very bad boy,” Tony confesses, “and I need to say that I’m sorry.” As he tips forward, the camera tilts down to reveal a man’s erection and Tony’s lips caressing it, his eyes still straining up as he takes it into his mouth. The more traditional-than-Tony’s-usual kind of play displayed, and the hot juxtaposition of contrition and lewdness, make Steve’s own cock plump up. It’s easy for him to picture himself as the one holding the camera.

Of course, Tony isn’t the  _ only _ person Steve follows on KinkTok. He enjoys some of the other users’ humor, and he finds that it’s easier to enjoy the more pornographic posts when he’s not personally invested and wishing to twist the Dom’s head off with his bare hands. There are stunning women and gorgeous boys all over the app. He avoids subs who post as a couple with dark-haired brunette women, though, and all the boys he follows under the #twinktok tag are blondes. He finds pretty young boys dancing amusing, for a while, the kind of thing he expected he’d be into if he ever decided to move on past Bucky. But there’s something about the first silvers in Tony’s hair and the wrinkles around his eyes when he smiles that keep drawing him back.

And, if he’s honest, the fact that he knows Tony lends a certain eroticism to it. It’s strange, yes, but it also feels more intimate to trace the lines of Tony’s body in his posts, to notice little things like his familiar calloused hands and the neat edges of his beard. In one video, he’s lying on a couch fully clothed, fly open and gripping his own dick, and Steve  _ recognizes his outfit _ because he saw it not 90 minutes earlier. That shouldn’t be hot for any discernible reason. It is.

The next night, when both of them are roaming the common areas late, Steve mentions Tony’s generosity in the form of his unique mattress. Tony tries to wave it off, and Steve growls under his breath without thinking about it. “ _ Thank you _ ,” he insists. “You’ve done a good thing.”

“You’re welcome,” Tony murmurs, and he probably doesn’t realize how much Steve hears in his tone, sees in the minute shift of his stance. Tony loves being generous but doesn’t know how to handle being praised about it. And he is so, so submissive, with a hair trigger for it. Steve’s opinion of the people Tony sleeps with is slowly picking up speed in its downhill slide. He may not have ever dated casually himself, but if he did, he certainly would still tell the subs how  _ good _ they are. 

“How did you know what I’d prefer?” Steve asks, veering them back into more comfortable territory. 

“Do you know about Afghanistan?” Okay, maybe not.

“From your file,” Steve agrees. He never wants to be anything but honest with Tony about the sources of his information. That’s the only way to establish trust, especially among aligned colleagues. 

“Normal mattresses are too damn soft. I don’t have a choice, really, given how many people I invite onto it,” he says with a cheeky smirk utilizing his public mask, the limited set of expressions he shows on KinkTok. Steve’s very familiar by now. It certainly hides something, creates a boundary—a wall. 

But still...

“You do,” Steve insists. Again Tony’s eyes drop instinctively, and his tongue flickers to wet his lips. “You don’t have to sleep and fuck in the same bed.”

“...sometimes I sleep on the floor.”

“You could always sleep in mine.”

Tony blinks a few times, slightly shocked. Before he can fully react, Steve gives him a pleasant, innocent smile and strides past him, onto the elevator. He doesn’t think they’re quite into territory where a full-strength come-on would be appreciated, but he can leave it ambiguous.

Soon after that, Tony starts replying to Steve’s comments fairly regularly. He almost wonders if Tony turned to TikTok and his alter ego out of spite, rather than take Steve up on his offer or admit he might want to. It’s kind of hot, in a forbidden way, that he’s just falling right back into Steve’s arms like a cleverly set trap (even if it really, really isn’t). (Is it?) 

One night after a Stark Industries launch event, Tony does a livestream and Steve’s there. The comments scroll so fast Steve can’t keep up (he’s pretty sure these lives get publicized by the app itself, as Tony’s one of KinkTok’s most popular users and appears in their advertising). If he does pay attention, he’ll see the bullies, and that’s no good when there’s no one actually present for Steve to punch. Instead, he focuses on Tony’s laugh and the life in his eyes as he flirts with the viewers, dancing a bit or posing submissively at intervals before he goes back to casual conversation. He sits in an armchair, sipping a glass of wine, and Steve knows that chair—he’s personally seen it in the remodeled penthouse. He licks his lips and comments some more, and this time, Tony acknowledges him, actually calls him out by pseudonym.

From there, the online interactions between the two of them start to blossom at almost the same pace as the team gains coherence in their fighting style. Tony likes that Steve is older than the average user (in his bio, he says 34, splitting the difference between chronological age and life experience / pop culture knowledge). He makes references to the 90s that Steve has to Google, but he doesn’t care. Tony also flirts—flirts a  _ lot _ —first in comment threads and then in DMs. Steve wonders who he’s picturing, when he thinks about Steve. Does he think he’ll be able to invite Steve to the Tower, feature footage of him in a coming post? Steve’s strategic mind is curious to see how Tony interacts with someone he’s met online in a sexual context. 

His dominant mind wants to storm the penthouse carrying handcuffs so that he can confiscate Tony’s phone. 

Steve sees how Tony flirts with the other users of the app. It doesn’t bother him, exactly. It can’t, he’s not allowed—Tony isn’t his. But all this flirtation in plain sight, witnessing how other Doms operate and comparing himself to them, can be jarring. 

It’s also somewhat comforting how inept some of them are, especially with regards to Tony. Before the Internet, it was easy to imagine that every other dominant must be a real Cary Grant or Rita Hayworth in private, effortlessly charming the pants off of their partners. In his imagination, Steve was always fairly average, and had something to prove to anyone he might want to step out with. With all this visibility, though, it’s pretty clear that either something’s changed in the last century or Steve was grossly overestimating the general population.

Some commenters “offer” to take Tony down off his high horse, referencing his high social standing for a submissive, especially in the business world. They claim that they know what Tony “really” wants, and are summarily verbally vivisected for other followers’ amusement and then blocked. What’s funny, Steve thinks, is that they probably  _ could _ manage a night with Tony if they came on a little less superior, as he seems pretty easy-going about casual scenes, but it’s their disrespect that loses them the chance. 

Others are more subtle, but still imply that Tony has some sort of deep-seated issue hidden in his business acumen. There are men and women who seem to want to give him therapy more than dominate him, and even  _ submissive _ users calling him “Daddy” in the comments and suggesting that he switch for them. Those bother Steve more than the rest, but not because he has any old-fashioned ideas about switching. Yes, switching is rare, given that those biologically driven towards dominance or submission are generally not called to both, but it happens. He’s fine with that. He lived in Brooklyn Heights, for Gods’ sake!

But Tony is clearly not a switch, and from the way he reacts to those sorts of comments, Steve has a feeling Tony finds them fairly dysphoric. He frowns and wants to tell Tony what a  _ good _ boy he is, what an obvious submissive—especially from Steve’s serum-enhanced position, which gives him a leg up in sensing others’ dynamic. But after that he wants to turn Tony over a table and belt his ass raw, so obviously Steve can’t have everything he desires.

Instead, he forces himself to ignore other followers of Tony’s, and focus only on his interactions with Tony himself. 

For a while, Tony goes through a TikTok challenge phase. There’s one where you have to open a condom packet without use of your hands, a tag full of subs struggling through with their mouths and trying not to rip the condom. Tony’s contribution features him lounging in an armchair, feet up, sipping a cocktail while a small robot on the table next to him opens about 100 condoms in a row in rapid succession. The text over the shot reads “dream bigger.”

Steve resists the urge to comment on how he’d be happy to oblige Tony if he’s dreaming of bigger, but just barely. The next one is more straightforward, a spice challenge where submissives are supposed to restrain themselves, consume a particular brand of intense chili chocolate using only their mouths, and then let the viewer watch as they struggle and cry from the pain. Tony fares better than some, almost stoic, but there are tears streaming down his cheeks and he never looks away from the camera, brown eyes glistening as he sits with his hands bound behind his back in voice-locking manacles. Towards the end of the clip, he starts to rock back and forth, just a little, and winces at the pain. It’s one of the hottest things Steve has ever seen, and he jerks off watching it—twice—before he comments, keeping his response simple. 

“This does things to me.”

Tony doesn’t reply, but sends a direct message instead.

“Good things?”

“Things that make me want to pin your down against something solid and show you how hard your tears made me, yeah.”

“Fuck. I like that.”

“Do you like to come while you’re being made to cry, sweetheart? Does that hit your kinks?”

“Fuck yes.”

Steve can’t help but notice that it’s been a while since Tony had anyone up to the Tower, at least so far as he’s aware. He can’t quite bring himself to ask JARVIS directly, and he knows it’d be foolish to assume the change in habit is because of him, but still. When they see each other in person, there’s no obvious sexual tension, but Tony does very occasionally flirt with him, and Steve stops demurely letting those moments pass, responding with lightly flirtatious comments of his own. 

Another TikTok challenge has Tony holding his breath until he’s gasping, a pop track in the background playing a chorus of a woman singing “Can you keep up? Baby boy, make me lose my breath.” He clearly tries to hold it as long as he possibly can, his body swaying a little as if he’s about to drop before he sucks in a lungful of air.

“Careful with that,” Steve messages immediately. He doesn’t care that it’s his second response in a row to one of Tony’s posts.

“I’m always careful, Daddy.”

“I’m serious. Solo breathplay is legitimately edgy, you know that.”

“I know. But it doesn’t make me  _ want _ any less.”

“Sounds like you need someone to take care of you,” Steve types before he can think too hard about it. He half-expects Tony to call him on the stereotyping, but that’s not what happens at all.

“Maybe I do. Are you saying you’d take care of me like that? Take care of when I’m allowed to breathe?”

“I would love to do that.” He doesn’t say anything about meeting up, though, and Tony doesn’t offer. Steve’s not sure what that means, but he’s also not sure he cares.

He’s  _ also _ not sure what it is that possesses him to record his first audio, but it happens a few days later. There’s no interesting accompanying video, just a still shot of a pile of books of poetry, without anything identifying about his room visible. He keeps his voice pitched low and raspy, almost a whisper to disguise its tone as he reads, interspersed with long pauses to keep the listener curious. 

“I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. I hunger for your sleek laugh, your hands the color of a savage harvest, hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails, I want to eat your skin like a whole almond. I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body, the sovereign nose of your arrogant face, I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes, and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, hunting for you, for your hot heart, like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.”

Even the act of reading it sends a thrill down Steve’s spine like a launch out of an airplane. He uses the “Share” button to send it to Tony, with a pithy comment: “Popped my TikTok cherry, finally. Got any constructive criticism?”

The response comes 47 minutes after posting. It’s not another message, but instead a Duet that Tony recorded to go with Steve’s original video. When it starts, Tony’s cocking his head to the side, curious, brows scrunched up a little in confusion as his eyes scan the book titles on the screen.

“I crave your mouth,” Steve’s voice rasps, and Tony’s jaw literally drops. He can’t imagine it’s a sign of recognition, though, given the form of Tony’s response—hopefully it’s something more like desire. “Your voice, your hair. Silent and starving,” Steve reads as Tony licks his lips and leans forward in his chair, the phone he’s filming on coming with him. His gaze is suddenly focused, intent. When Steve says “I hunger,” Tony mutters under his breath, maybe not even audible to the average viewer. 

“Yes, Daddy.” Tony pulls the shot back, holding the camera at arm’s length, and slides his free hand down his chest, tilting his head back with eyes closed. Tony’s hand massages his cock as Steve continues to read. “Yeah, eat me,” Tony mutters after the line about an almond. 

“I honestly was not expecting this,” the caption beneath the video declares. Steve grins, though a part of him hates that this video is online for everyone to see, rather than sent directly to his tablet. Tony writhes beautifully in his chair, his hips jerking at “pace around hungry,” words that Steve practically growled. He confesses his desire to hunt for Tony, for his “hot heart,” using the sweet vehicle of Neruda’s words, and on the screen Tony moans like he’s dying. When the poem ends, there’s nothing else, no polished ending or Tony smirking at the camera. It just cuts back to the slightly befuddled close-up of Tony’s face. 

“I genuinely meant to give you criticism,” Tony DMs, right after Steve’s done with the video, timed so that Tony must have watched it back himself to know when to send. “And then I heard your fucking voice. Neruda, be still my twitching dick.”

_ Still twitching? Maybe you should do something about that. _

_ Bet you’d like that, Daddy. Am I allowed? _

_ Ooh, I like THAT. Touch yourself for me, good boy. _

Steve barely keeps himself from typing  _ my _ good boy, because it’s far too soon. This is the first time they’ve even been this direct about it, the fact that they’re jerking off thinking about each other. And also he  _ can’t _ , as he’s already a fucking weirdo, flirting with Tony under false pretenses. He should confess, at this point, maybe even ask to be transferred off the team. But that’s not what he’s going to do.

Four days later, Steve records another audio.

Four days and three hours later, Tony records a TikTok that makes use of that audio. He’s on his knees. There’s a thick dildo in his mouth. And he’s blinking at the camera like the cat that got the cream as he sucks it in perfect time to Steve’s voice.

There’s a trend a few days later where dominant TikTok users record audio instructions with appropriate pauses, and submissives record a Duet as they follow the instructions. Sometimes the last instruction is something particularly silly, and the subs either perform begrudgingly or flip off the dominant watching. The one Steve records, phone pointed at his boots, is all serious. 

He doesn’t pay any attention to several new Duets the app notifies him of, waits instead for Tony to record a reply. Steve knows he’s busy with SI, so it’s not surprising when Tony’s response comes two days later. Tony obviously knows the trend and spotted its hashtag in Steve’s video before deciding to Duet, based on how he’s already framed kneeling in the center of the shot and waiting for instructions when the video starts. But it’s still gratifying as hell to watch. Tony only ever does blind reactions in Duets, so he has no idea what’s coming.

“Okay, sweetheart. That’s good. Show me your mouth.” Tony’s hinges open slowly, his tongue resting just inside the bottom lip. “Good boy. Your tongue, now.” The pause is just long enough for Tony’s tongue to extend before Steve’s barking another order. “Shove down your pants.” For consistency, these Duets always start with the submissive fully clothed, on their knees. Tony’s wearing jeans, so it takes him a moment to undo the zip and peel the sinful things down his thighs. This pause is longer though.

“Now,” Steve purrs, as Tony kneels there with his dick already hard (‘did he get hard just from  _ seeing _ that I’d done the meme?’ Steve wonders) and his tongue quivering slightly in the air. “Put your finger in your mouth, nice and slow. Get it wet for me. Stroke your tongue. Now underneath. Show me you what you’d do to this leather.” Tony’s eyes go glassier as he obeys each instruction, tongue swirling around his index finger. 

Steve groans a little under his breath in real time, even as his own voice tells Tony to put his fingertip to his hole. “Gentle, now,” he purrs, and Tony moans, soft and surprised, something unlike his usual dramatic reactions on this platform. Steve’s both very pleased and almost upset that Tony let this bit of himself leak through, not  _ knowing  _ that it’s for Steve. It won’t do to be jealous of himself, though, so he enjoys watching as Tony follows his murmured instructions to circle his hole, to push the tip in. “Now say thank you, good boy.” 

Tony licks his lips, blinking at the screen as if he’s in a bit of a trance. “Thank you, Daddy,” he murmurs, so soft, before the loop repeats. It’s much more vulnerable than he normally looks in these videos. Even though he frequently shows himself in subspace, it’s almost always strictly pornographic, edited to highlight his wantonness above all else. In this video, he’s raw and soft as he goes down—and he chose to share it, publicly, specifically for Steve to see. 

Steve admits defeat and shoves his hand down his pants.

In response to another video, where Tony fucks himself with a thick dildo while Steve reads explicit D/s poetry on the audio track, another user who frequents Tony’s comments section leaves a flirty proposition offering that he too can read poetry if it’ll make Tony come like that. Before Steve can even summon his annoyance, he sees Tony’s reply— _ Sorry. Only doing requests for deadpresidentsfrombklyn right now _ and gets both kind of proud and even more turned on. Without thinking too hard about it, he DMs Tony to tell him so. He tells him that, and also that he’s a good boy and that he makes Daddy so fucking hard. Tony replies and they spend about an hour basically sexting-by-app. Again, Steve has to force himself not to type anything too possessive, too demanding. Steve can’t say he hasn’t noticed, either, that Tony hasn’t posted any KinkToks with another dominant in several weeks. He tries not to think too hard about it. 

The next day, not just KinkTok but Cheep/cheep and actual goddamned news services are blowing up with speculation that Tony Stark the infamous slut may actually have a boyfriend. It’s not just the kinky apps talking about it, but also regular TikTok and Twitter, and probably every other social media and pop culture site on the Internet. Steve doesn’t reply to direct inquiries. He does figure out how to get from Tony’s KinkTok to his other socials, though, and follows him on Cheep/cheep as well. The follow-back is nearly instant. 

Though Steve doesn’t reply to general inquiries or flirtatious messages from other subs, both of which have risen almost as quickly as his follower count, Steve does finally give himself permission to engage with the dicks who are unpleasant to Tony on the apps. He doesn’t tell them the truth of whether he is or isn’t dating Tony. He doesn’t even do it with his usual handle. He creates a new account, sgr1918, and when he messages these assholes, he strongly implies both his identity and that anyone fucking with his  _ teammates _ will get exactly what’s coming to them, posthaste. He can only contact the ones who harrass Tony publicly, where Steve could ostensibly see it, not those who only message Steve under his pseudonym to “warn” him about Tony’s reputation, but there’s enough overlap that Steve finds it satisfying.

And then one night there’s a post that changes everything. 

Earlier in the evening, they had ordered Thai as a team. Tony had gone for some specialty dish, Steve sticking to his standby pad see ew, and then Tony had made fun of him for the most white-boy order ever, joking that he can’t stand the heat. Steve had flirted a bit in return, and now here he is, sitting on his sofa, watching a post that went live five minutes ago.

“I know you’re watching,” Tony teases, holding the camera out so that his torso is visible, one hand trailing down his toned chest clothed only in a black wifebeater. He licks his lips and then winks. “It’s okay. I was only teasing. I know you can stand the heat.” The video repeats. Steve stares. 

“My name is Tony Stark, and my game is starting shit,” the caption reads. #daddyswatching #impatient #comeandgetit

By midway through the third playback Steve’s tossing his tablet aside and striding for the elevator. JARVIS takes him to the penthouse, where he finds Tony sitting on the sofa, completely at ease, a glass of red wine in his hand. 

“How did you know?” is the first thing Steve asks, a quick rush of anger rising in his blood along with the almost relieved excitement of not having to hide anymore, however this conversation may ultimately end. “How long?”

“The whole time,” Tony admits, taking a sip from the wine and then setting it aside, pushing up to his feet. The alcohol may have calmed his nerves, but Steve’s gratified to sense a bit of hesitance in him, at least a hint of uncertainty or embarrassment for his actions. “You were using the Tower’s WiFi. I wouldn’t have said anything, but…”

“But?” Steve raises an eyebrow, widens his stance slightly. 

“You kept flirting.” At this, Tony’s cheeks go just the slightest bit pink. “I wasn’t supposed to know who you were but  _ you _ knew who  _ I  _ was.”

“Yes.” Steve’s anger starts to mellow. He’s not going to apologize for his desire. Tony seems pleased by his response.

“You… changed. A little. Or maybe… maybe you didn’t change, but we’ve been different together, haven’t we? Especially in the past six months or so? Not just on Kinktok.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, warmer. “We have.”

“I kept flirting with you,” Tony points out. “There’s a reason for that.”

“Yeah?” Steve smiles. Tony’s barefoot, still standing several feet away from Steve on a plush rug. The invitation seems suddenly obvious, even if it’s still a bit risky to push at this. The thing is, Steve always pushes. 

“Then get on the damn floor for Daddy, Stark.” 

Tony drops like his strings have been cut, and Steve surges forward. As soon as he’s standing close enough, Tony tilts forward to press his lips to the toe of one booth. His hands clasp gently behind his back, his form perfect. Steve’s been told that submissives these days aren’t generally into things like formal positions and traditional protocol, but Tony does it beautifully, fluid and graceful. And somehow, instinctively, Steve knows that it’s not just for him, that Tony genuinely enjoys it. His mouth caresses the leather of one toe, then the other, taking his time, and Steve lets out a slow breath. 

“Kneel up,” Steve orders, and Tony easily lifts his torso, his eyes flicking up expectantly to meet Steve’s gaze. Maybe the point of this is supposed to be just sex and submission, maybe Steve’s more of a romantic than he should be in this day and age, but it doesn’t really matter. There is nothing in him that will allow him to go one goddamned step further without getting his mouth on this boy’s lips. He gets a firm grip, cupping Tony’s face with his fingers supporting the skull, and then bends down to press a kiss to Tony’s mouth. Tony moans, going loose, and they kiss slow and dirty, settling into it. “You’ve been flirting with me,” Steve murmurs against Tony’s lips, unwilling to pull away just yet. “Knowing who I was.”

“So have you,” Tony agrees, his voice syrupy but still with just a hint of challenge to it. Steve smiles.

“Damn right I have.” 

“May I…”

“No,” Steve interrupts, before Tony can even ask. The way he’s listing slightly towards Steve’s crotch, it’s pretty obvious. “Not yet. I have some questions first. Take my boots off.” 

Tony nods, bending to the task, and Steve appreciates that he doesn’t complain or seem to mind the deflection. He cups Steve’s boot heel almost reverently in his palm, removing the footwear with a practiced rocking motion that frees Steve’s foot despite the glove-like fit of the leather. These boots only come to mid-calf, and they’re practical, but Steve would like to see Tony help him with a full engineer boot sometime, preferably after getting his tongue all over the entire leather surface. He sees how Tony salivates, even though he doesn’t push it. Steve lets Tony remove his socks, as well, before he gives another instruction.

“Come with me. Crawl,” he adds as an afterthought, giving Tony’s cheek a gentle rub with his thumb to show he’s not angry before he walks across the rug, headed for one end of the sofa. Because he can’t help himself, he picks up Tony’s abandoned wine glass and sips from it, spreading his thighs wide enough to fit a boy in between them. Tony crawls languidly over to settle between his feet, and from the glazed-over look in his eyes seems to enjoy watching Steve finish his wine without asking. 

“So you responded because I flirted with you,” Steve summarizes, letting a proprietary hand rest at the back of Tony’s neck, grounding him with a gentle squeeze. “But why didn’t you come clean sooner? We’ve been doing better, as ourselves.”

“I know,” Tony admits, his eyes dropping to the floor. “It made me anxious. I knew once your handle was associated with me everyone would tell you. What a slut I am. How… I never have relationships. That I’m not relationship material. And you had the most epic dynamic love story of the 20th century, how could I not…”

“Hey,” Steve interrupts, soft but still firm, massaging the tense cords of Tony’s neck. “If you want to know how I feel about something, ask me. And if I follow an account where you regularly post videos of yourself submitting to other men, and then start flirting with you, it’s fair to assume that I don’t judge you for that, isn’t it?”

Tony shrugs, though he looks a little lighter. “I guess. It’s just… the way you talk sometimes scares me. Because I think you could be… I think we could be… a lot. Something I want. Something I don’t  _ talk _ about wanting. You saw me performing for the masses and you picked out the pieces that were most true, like you weren’t even trying. I don’t feel… like this could just be a scene, anymore. It all feels a little like jumping off a building,” he admits. “And trusting that the suit’s going to do its thing, it’s going to catch me. But it’s never a guarantee.”

“Well,” Steve smiles. “If you built it, it pretty much is. And also, look at me. You think I don’t know a little something about jumping from a height not sure you’ll be caught in time?” That gets a laugh out of Tony, and as his body relaxes, Steve bends down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He squeezes his feet tighter against Tony’s hips, boxing him in. “As for the other thing… sure, people told me stuff about you. They told me a lot of stuff. Do you think I listened to a single one of those assholes?”

A little grin fights to escape as Tony slowly shakes his head.

“Ya know… I hear legal’s dealing with quite a few issues related to Captain America making threats on social media this week. Sticking up for the fella he’s sweet on. Isn’t that a coincidence?” 

At that admission, the grin blossoms wide, and Tony even laughs again as he shakes his head. “I really shouldn’t be swooning for that kind of behavior… but I totally am.”

Steve smiles. “Do you want a protector, sweetheart?” 

“I’ve never been allowed to,” Tony says, rather than really answering the question. “Want that. Not if I was going to run a company and invent things people would buy. Well...” He makes a small face. “Not if I was going to be Howard Stark’s son.”

“You can want anything that’s true,” Steve assures him, stroking his hair. “You’re Tony Stark. You’ve surpassed your father’s genius at least ten times over, from what I understand.” 

“And you like that?” Tony counters, sounding like he meant to be teasing but came out a little more vulnerable instead.

“I love that.” Steve presses another kiss to his mouth, rubs his thumbs at the tension point between neck and jaw. “I would love to give you some cover,” he murmurs. “It doesn’t mean you’re weak. It doesn’t mean you can’t protect yourself if it comes to it. It just means you don’t  _ have _ to. You’re the strongest person I know. And you’ve been dealing with assholes for a really long time, haven’t you?”

“Yeah.” Tony leans in, almost nuzzles his lips against Steve’s. 

“Sweet boy. What do I need to do to make you mine?”

Tony swallows, a little tremor running through his body that Steve can feel. 

“Ask.”

“Good boy.” Steve beams. “Beautiful.” He kisses him again, soft and lingering. “Will you belong to me? As my submissive? We need to talk about exactly what that means to both of us soon, but I want…”

“Yes,” Tony blurts out before Steve’s done speaking. “Yes, please.”

After that, they don’t make it any further than the rug before there’s no more talking.

(But when they do decide to sleep, they do it in Steve’s bed.)


End file.
